#its been a long time since ive drawn in a sketchbook | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meruz · 3 years

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once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous)

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL.

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close.

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

#ask #trying this new thing where i tag people in the body of the post instead

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carnymassacre · 2 years

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hi dear :)c um um for the questions

4, 6, 9, 16, 18, 19, 20 (but for drawing), 21, 22, 23, 28, 29 (:]c), 40, 58, 59, 68, 93

i'm so sorry if this is too much but also i wish you much fun !

hi sweetheart mwahmwahmwah i will put this under a cut

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

its hard to remember but i remember one of them calling me impulsive, another one called me smart and a pleasure to have in class or something like that

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

you know im just gonna say goth lol also what the hell is boho okay i looked it up and its ugly and i dont like it so who cares

9. favorite smell in the summer?

uhhh idk. im gonna say funnel cake and meat on the grill. this is something i smell more in autumn but i also love the smell of fire

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

flat on my stomach with my chin propped up on a blanket pillow ect i also lay on my side often

18. ideal weather?

storm/heavy rain during the day. where it's not pitch black outside but it's certainly darker than it normally would be during that time of day. absolute bliss

19. sleeping position?

when i was younger i slept in a fetal position but nowadays i mostly end up passing out flat on my back with my limbs splayed out however is most comfortable to me at the moment

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

i always draw digitally on my laptop but very rarely i will break out an old sketchbook and scribble in there there's also a special feeling to drawing on lined notebook paper

21. obsession from childhood?

DINOSAURS AND DRAGONS. my god i devoted my life to dinosaurs i wanted to be a paleontologist i was always looking at the rocks around our area to see if they had fossils in them (i actually did see some fossils twice) i had so many dinosaur books and toys i watched dinosaur movies we went to a place called the science center and looked at their cool ass dinosaur exhibit all the time, and i loved dragons too i had a ton of dragon toys and dragon books i had that dragonology book which was like the literal coolest thing ever to me (its still awesome) and i loved how to train your dragon with all my heart. dragons are some of the first things i remember drawing EVER.

22. role model?

grimharlequin is definitely my biggest inspiration as both an artist and a person. his philosophy of none of his work or interests being "ironic" really speaks to me and his artwork has such a wonderful genuine raw feeling to it. i think hes one of the only artists ive ever seen whos work retains the spirit of artwork drawn in childhood before you have any inhibitions about making your art look "good" or appealing to an audience. its very special to me. i also look up massively to toby fox, sparkleanimal here on tumblr, zun and gerard way

23. strange habits?

i have the ability to put my tongue up and behind my uvula into the flap over your throat and i do that often. why? who fucking knows

28. five songs to describe you?

god okay give me a moment im ogign to try and think about this. 1. love me normally by will wood and the tapeworms 2. lover dearest by marianas trench 3. we will commit wolf murder by of montreal 4. hate me by blue october i dotn fucking know what else im sorry i ithink these are just songs i relate to more than ones that describe me but whatever listen to three cheers for sweet revenge

29. best way to bond with you?

this is a difficult question to answer because its been a long time since any new person was able to form a bond with me but i'd say just, talking about something that we both have an interest in or engaging in it together (for example if theres a certain show we both like then watching it together) games are a good way too actually games are definitely the best way idk why i said any of that other stuff

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

i barely remember anything from school im sorry

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

oh god i have to invent FOUR entire talents i have um. i guess drawing is a given? i can read japanese easily save for most kanji. i can handle doing really tedious boring shit (like shiny hunting lol) and i suppose if im really interested in something i can soak up information on it like a sponge, i remember memorizing hiragana in a day or two

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

HAIL SATAN and i just add it to the end of my sentences at random

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

does medicine count? i had mucinex once and it was genuinely the most vile thing to ever touch my tongue

93. nicknames?

my friends used to call me alexander jackson slugman adn i think danny called me ajax once. its hard to make a nickname out of alex

thank you for the ask sweetie

#ask

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warmau · 4 years

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painter!au jihoon

*this post was commissioned | based very lightly off seventeen - fallin’ flowers tw: break up mention/general angst

“something in your gentleness entraps him you make it look so easy, to love and provide for something he knows a flower is one thing, a human is another - but could you do that for him too?”

you had thought jihoon was going to marry them

so standing in the middle of his studio with the remnants of their relationship, a broken vase of lilies in the corner, his undone portrait of them dripping down with the streaks of paint he’d thrown at the canvas in a fit of confusion and pain

feels .......... wrong

as if you were the one who was broken up with, and not jihoon who is on his knees a couple of feet away

hands stained in watercolors, eyes blank and burrowing

you reach for the wilting lilies first, you’ve known jihoon long enough to be aware of the fact that trying to use words to comfort him right now won’t work

so you silently begin to clean up, plucking items that belong to his ex and placing them out of sight

you take the ruined canvas with half their face sketched out and turn it over

jihoon doesn’t move from his spot as you work - doesn’t say anything - doesn’t even look at you

when you’re done you finally kneel down beside him, bring the hot wet towel to his hands and start to scrub the dry paint from his palms

you try to be gently but jihoon finally speaks

“harder, you have to scrub harder if you want to get rid of them.”

you can’t tell if he’s talking about the paint or of the memories that must be flooding into him

you had remembered how happy he had looked, being in love, being with someone who seemed to understand him

now he was empty and you were scared of what could happen if he was left like this alone

you don’t argue, you scrub harder and finally you get some of the colors off his skin

there’s still smudges thought, the same way there will still be those pieces of his ex scarred across him

time heals everything - you want to say that, but its too early to start preaching

instead you tell jihoon he should go to bed now, you’ll take care of the rest of the cleaning up and put his art supplies away

he gives a vague sort of look toward the bedroom and then back at you

“i broke the vase, the one with the lilies.”

“it’s ok, ive already cleaned-”

“i should go buy fresh ones.”

his eyes glaze over, he gets up and you scramble to your feet in the process

you put a hand on his chest to stop him and jihoon stares at you, but you can tell he isnt focused

“ill buy them, please jihoon. go to bed.”

somehow you manage to get him to turn around

and you are standing now in the doorway to his apartment, with a trash bag full of his exes things and the pathetic looking lilies

you had bought them as a gift when you’d come over to celebrate jihoon’s successful art show

his ex had put them into a vase and gushed over how pretty they looked - jihoon had never been one to be so romantic, but he had said that they looked almost as pretty as his ex did

you had watched them be so loving toward each other just days ago

but now it was all gone and part of you is angry at both of them

at jihoon’s ex for leaving him, out of the blue and with no real reason but the excuse of having “outgrown” him

and at jihoon for calling you after it had happened

but that anger toward him is really just a cover for something else

the hollowing pit in your stomach that has always been there since you met jihoon in college.

the pit you’ve covered with years of support for him and his relationships and his art

the pit, in which sits the actual emotion you’ve been hiding from the world

if you had picked me, i would have never hurt you like this

the thought is cruel and you tell yourself never to think such a thing like that again

but its there, it will always be there, because you love jihoon

not that you ever plan to let that truth come to the surface......

the next morning, you stop by the florist to pick up the lilies you promised you’d buy

you look at them, watching as one of the petals sags to the side, threatening to fall

you dont know what it is about lilies in particular - they bloom so big and beautiful that they often steal the attention in a garden

they’re quite the opposite of you

who has always found yourself more of a queen anne’s lace, playing a side role in the main stories of all your friends

but you adore them above all other flowers, touching the petal made of velvet and suddenly remembering that you had seen lilies when you first met jihoon

you had taken art in college as an extra credit class

you weren’t at all any good, but it was enjoyable to take a course that didnt demand much from you but creativity

one of the first assignments had been still life: drawing baskets of fruit, books on tables, flowers in vases

you had ended up with a vase with one purple lily in it.

the only other person who had also chose it was jihoon

you didn’t know his name back then

just that he was so beautiful, like he had been drawn himself and came to life off the page

his eyes like umber, russet sunsets - his mouth slightly parted in concentration as he let his pencil flow across his canvas

you had trouble focusing on the flower, which is probably half the reason it came out terribly

but it had also allowed jihoon to look over and offer with a quiet tone, that you maybe work on shading here - and dimension here

you had told him you weren’t in the art major and he had given you the kind of look that read, i could tell

before smiling to himself in the way you caved your head in a bit of embarrassment

it wasn’t like you ever thought the meaningless, sometimes only minute long conversation you’d have with him in the art room would turn into a friendship which harbored its way into one-sided love

somehow you had just ended up being invited warmly into his small knit circle

jihoon extending his hand to you after getting a text about dinner with seokmin and jeonghan

jihoon allowing only his and your eyes to fall upon his works in progress, you taking the free time you had to spend at his studio mixing paints and organizing his drawing materials

he never ask you to do those things - but he also never chided you for it

jeonghan had mentioned it once, when you were all walking in the summer evening after a movie outing

that you being able to earn jihoon’s trust was a higher honor than one might think

you had looked from jeonghan to jihoon - who had been walking a bit in front with the rest of your friends

head turned, his profile against the setting sun

“ah - are you buying another bouquet for your artist boyfriend?”

you jump at the sudden question and shake your head

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

you swallow and find that your throats gone dry

“he actually just got broken up with so......”

the florist frowns, taking you gently by the hand and leading you away from the lilies

“then those are not the flowers you should be getting him, you need to get him something that will say cheer up! there’s someone better out there for you - could i suggest tulips?”

you give a polite smile

“no, i think i have to take the lilies.”

when you arrive at jihoon’s apartment, the door is unlocked and jihoon is still in bed

from the way the kitchen is untouched and he’s wearing the same shirt he was yesterday you assume he hasn’t moved in all this time

“jihoon”

you softly speak

“it’s already well past lunch, have you eaten?”

he pulls his feet up so they disappear under the covers again. you look around the room and find a vase full of old paintbrushes

you take it and tell jihoon you’re going to go make him something to eat and that you’ve brought the lilies

he doesn’t reply, not until you turn in the doorway and his voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard before

“can you put the lilies in here?”

“you don’t want them in the studio?”

“no, please put them here.”

you quickly fry up an egg and make some coffee, which you set down on the night table beside jihoon’s bed

you move his sketchbook away and realize that it’s open to an empty page

your eyes briefly glance to see if jihoon has reacted at all, but he’s still

you go back to wash out the waves and put the lilies in

you wrap a rubberband around his paintbrushes and set them by the others which are stock piled in the studio room

a small ping of relief floods through you when you enter the bedroom and jihoon is up, holding the cup of coffee in his hands

usually people would suggest you make conversation to help ease jihoon’s mind out of whatever dark place it has wondered into it

but you just put the lilies down and tend to cleaning up whatever other paper and things you can see on the floor

even though jihoon only finishes the coffee and maybe a quarter of the egg, it’s still a start

the pain he’s feeling is fresh and you don’t want to push anything

but as you tell him you’re off to leave again - you remind him that he does have another exhibition planned in two weeks

on the way back home you hope his love for painting can cradle him through this all

whenever you think of the sadness that comes with being unloved, you throw yourself into your hobbies, scribbling down poems or re-reading novels from your time in school

you’d done it all to stop thinking about jihoon - you hope he does the same too

about a week passes when you return to jihoon’s again, and it’s only because this time jeonghan calls you with a serious worry about jihoon’s exhibition

“he isn’t painting, that’s the problem.”

“what do you mean he isn’t painting?”

“when i came over, he was sitting in front of the canvas with his hand pressed against it - but ........ he wasn’t drawing or painting or doing anything.”

you show up to the apartment after the call and take a deep breath before you let yourself in

today might be the first time you mention the breakup to jihoon, and you don’t know if its too early yet

to make the dread bubble even harder in your stomach is the fact that sitting outside of his apartment is that undone portrait of his ex

its half shrouded with other trash bags left to be collected

you look at the familiar face and clench your fist a bit tighter

if you hadnt done this to him, if you hadnt made this mess - i wouldnt be stuck cleaning it up.

you chide and immediately fall into regret

its not a mess, taking care of your friends is not a mess.

you knock on the door and wait for a moment till you hear jihoon turn the lock

you’re relived to see that his hair is wet from a fresh shower, but the bags under his eyes like crows wings cancels it out

as well as the fact that he looks as if he’s seen the devil himself

“what’s wrong?”

jihoon’s shoulders shrink

“do i really have to answer that?”

you step inside and the door closes behind you two

“jeonghan said you’re having trouble painting”

jihoon’s head drops and the darkness of the hallway makes everything feel closer and more intense

he turns and starts to walk toward the studio and you follow, gasping a little at the sight of it

canvases broken in halves, paint spilled on the floor - but not a single new painting, not a single completed project

jihoon sits down in the middle of it all and puts his head in his hands

he looks like he’s in agony, silent and torturous

is this what happens when an artist loses their muse?

you don’t know how to help and that makes it all the more worse

you just sit down beside jihoon

he lets you take his hands in your own

in the corner of the room those fresh lilies youve bought have wilted again

on one of the broken canvases, the only thing jihoon has been able to paint is those scattered and browning petals

you start to come by everyday after that because as much as you share jeonghan’s worry about the art

you are more so worried about jihoon shutting down

now he has nothing to focus on, just the fact that he’s lost the love of his life

so you try and entertain and keep him alive to the best of your ability

with groceries and company, bringing over his other friends - trying to coax him into going outside

jihoon reacts on some level, but you can tell that he just wants to paint again

all he’s done is brush strokes on the white paper, the shape vaguely like that of a flower but you cant ever tell what kind

he also keeps asking you if you can bring him lilies again

you do, and this time they live longer because you tend to them - and when you do you fail to realize that jihoon starts to watch you

he takes note of the way you move the vase with both hands

the way you keep the steams between the same two fingers every time

you arent burdened by the little chore because its takes at most five or so minutes out of the day

but jihoon unfolds each step you take like a storybook page

something in your gentleness entraps him

you make it look so easy, to love and provide for something

he knows a flower is one thing, a human is another - but

could you do that for him too?

he looks into his hands and the cup of coffee you made for him is sitting on the table to the left

have you already been doing it, all this time?

which is why on the day before the exhibition

when you ask him if he wants you to help him cancel it

he says no, he thinks he can fish something in time

you light up and ask if he’s finally found a new muse, but jihoon blinks slowly

“a new muse?”

“yes, i mean i thought - well i thought they were your muse and losing them meant you couldnt paint but if youre saying you can now then-

jihoon’s eyes turn to ice at the mention but then he shakes his head

“they ...... i never saw them as a muse.”

he stops to think on it, he isn’t lying

“but you loved them, i mean -”

he keeps his eyes down and you fidget, “sorry, let’s not talk about that.”

“i did, you’re right i did love them but that doesn’t mean they inspired me.”

he taps a finger and then looks at you

sitting across from him, how you’ve done a million times before

suddenly jihoon thinks if he can look at you like that for a little while longer

he can create again

he can paint something

so when he asks you to stay still, you do - and jihoon brings his pencil down to paper

only to get up half an hour later and take you with him

he sits you down again and sets up a bigger canvas this time, brings his paintbrushes

and then he moves the vase with the lily from behind him to sit at your feet

“jihoon, are you going to paint me?”

“yes”

“why?”

he looks from the lily to you

“because i want to, and it’s the first time in a while that i think ill be able to.”

you don’t realize it yourself not until you’ve fallen asleep in your position and jihoon is deep into his painting

that the muse you were talking about and thinking he’d lost

had been you all along

jihoon knew it, even when he was in a relationship, that there was no one else in this world that could make him paint

he’d felt it the first time you met in that art class, he’d watched you fumble through your drawing

and usually he wasn’t inspired to draw the mundane, the everyday

until he started seeing just how much it could mean to him

he had been painting that portrait of his ex out of obligation, they had asked him to do it

and so it had been taking a while - it had been unfinished not even because of the breakup but because jihoon didn’t want to do it

and yet here he was, the brush strokes pouring out of him in an attempt to capture every little detail there is to you

he had been wallowing in his pain and hadn’t bothered to look at you again

until you started to be there, everyday, like those lilies

and those lilies, beautiful and sweet

they were yours, you were theirs. to jihoon something about the silk of the petal and the sway of your hair made sense

he doesn’t wake you up, he’s been your friend long enough to know the parts of you he wants in the painting

he only stops when he’s done and his hair is stuck to him with sweat and the sun is rising outside his window

you’ve slumped over completely onto the couch and jihoon comes closer to move you into a more comfortable position

this is the first time in these weeks that he is taking care of you instead of the other way around

when his fingers touch your skin he suddenly feels the kind of sparking urge he has only felt with others who hes been intimate with

your small stir in his arms causes him alarm and excitement all at once, when your eyes open slightly he jumps back before he fears he’ll do something you wont like

in the morning, jihoon is passed out cold in his bed and you get up and rub your eyes

finally you let yourself move toward the canvas to see what jihoon has painted

its you.........its you in every way..........you stare at that face of yours like a mirrored reflection

seeing it like this something ties a knot in your heart

“is this what its like to be a muse?”

jihoon’s voice floats through the room

“you’ve always been mine.”

you turn - because you don’t think you’ve really heard it - maybe its just your drowsy imagination speaking

but jihoon is there and the phone is ringing, jeonghan about the exhibition

neither you or jihoon reach for the phone

instead you ask him,

“what do you mean?”

he doesn’t know how to explain it

instead he looks at you and then over his shoulder into his room

the exhibition doesnt start until the afternoon, and you are in his studio and you are whats brought him back from a point of emptiness

you are more than a muse

somehow you end up with his hand on yours again and this time that spark is searing up through both of you

jihoon’s paint stained fingers splay on the small of your back

you are still a little scared that its too early for this, if its just the wounds on his heart speaking

but jihoons lips only centimetres from yours promise that its more than that

its all that time wasted, his attention was yours that day in the art classroom

and he was an idiot for ever trying to put it on someone else

but like all good things - they come with time and if you want him how he wants you then hes here

and he’s ready to let this between you bloom into something more

you giggle when his breath tickles you before you finally kiss

you wonder if everyone will be surprised by that painting jihoon has done of you when its up in the wall of the gallery

when the lily petals fall from the flower in that vase and land at your entangled feet.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #jihoon scenarios #jihoon imagines #jihoon au #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #woozi au #member: woozi #sfw #writing commissions #seventeen #woozi #park jihoon

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mrfutureboy · 3 years

Note

I would like to know when you started drawing and where your passion for fanart started 😊

Oh FUCK dude i did not see this i’m so fucking sorry this is so late 😭 damn you, tumblr, for not fucking notifying me!! Anyway buckle up this is gonna be much longer than you asked for <3

Honestly ive kinda been drawing all my life! I hope that doesnt sound dumb cuz obviously almost everyone drew pictures when they were kids, but i know that it’s been a consistent hobby for me since i was little. By the time i was in 3rd grade I was hoarding notebooks to draw in. Cuz that’s something fun about me: i had a real huge habit of drawing in things that werent sketchbooks. Through middle school and beyond I did buy/receive sketchbooks, but I started out with various kinds of notebooks. One I had from like 2nd grade was like a hardcover, stationary-type notebook that I drew cats in lol, and I have 2 velvet lisa frank notebooks from 3rd grade. In high school and college I had a really bad habit of drawing in the margins on my notes and on handouts the teacher/professor would give. Those classes where the prof just prints out all the notes beforehand and gives them to you to follow along? Oh man, I spent so many classes barely listening while I drew on them! I also used to draw on my physics homework and tests and sometimes I even got extra credit for them (thank you jeff :D). I actually have a folder of various drawings I’ve kept from that 8yr time period and a lot of them are on classwork 😂

Obviously, I’ve been doing a lot of digital art lately, which I’m sure is what u were more curious about rather than the shit about drawing on my homework. I got a surface pro as a graduation gift in 2016 bc prior to that i had a wacom tablet and a janky ass laptop, so the gift was kinda a 2-in-1: i can do schoolwork AND art easily! i like digital art a lot and honestly im still learning new things abt it every time i draw. I use Leonardo currently (i’ll skip that story) but I started out doing digital art on sketchfu WITHOUT the wacom tablet in maaaaybe 2012??? 2011??? does anyone on this site remember sketchfu? Honestly couldnt even tell u how i found that site hahah the internet was just full of wonders back in the day. RIP sketchfu. Once i got the tablet tho some time later i used sketchfu still (i think) but also gimp and krita i believe.

Oh i suppose I should mention that i took art all four years of highschool and also minored in it in college! So it’s something i did academically as well as for fun. I keep thinking about going to art school for realsies but idk. I’m already $$$ in debt from my first degree i dont feel like adding to that 😅😓

Ok now for the second part of your question: I’ve also pretty much always done fan art! Ive never really been one for OC’s, EXCEPT for the self-insert superhero double life “comics” i wrote about a poodle named Sassy when i was in third grade. And then the knock off “comics” i wrote at a later time which honestly it was weird that i did a knock off of my own thing rather than just adding them to the original or making it a spin off with at least one of the og characters. Cuz it wasnt a spin off!! But anyway there wasnt really much to any of these characters; i just needed vessels to get my weird ideas out.

So anyway yeah most of what ive ever drawn has been fan art or self portraits, because its just easier for me to take characters that already exist and bend them to my will (artistically). Well excluding art assignments in school i guess because i would usually have to draw something specific and therefore not something self indulgent. But yeah ive drawn for lots of fandoms like the earliest i remember is warrior cats. Then theres things like pokemon and warriors and random other books i read thru middle school (i used to read a LOT but now im practically illiterate); spn, sherlock, and marvel through high school; and then marvel and bttf thru the end of hs and beyond. Idk i also have always loved looking at other peoples fan art and so im like “shit i wanna do that too!”. Tho i will say marvel was my biggest fandom and the one i had the longest interest in, so that was probably where the passion REALLY came from cuz I was drawing marvel stuff for such a long time (tho not posting shdjsk u have to trust me), but ive been doing fan art forever :)

(Of course, a lot of the fan art i was making prior to recently was drawn in lined notebooks or on homework sheets or what have you, and I wasn’t posting really any of it, but i was still making it and a good chunk of it still exists. Oh i should also mention most of it was with pencils or ballpoint pens like i wasnt doing anything too fancy. There was some digital art in the highschool-college time frame but it also really wasnt…much. Honestly i barely posted any of it here but I know some of it’s on deviantart)

I cant pinpoint the exact time I started getting more “serious” about my art in general, but i know the first pandemic lockdown gave me more free time and i was less stressed about schoolwork so i just kinda had a good outlet. (Tho i will say that prior, I had been in a life drawing club for a short while, and i had also been working on a personal sketchbook project that had me pretty ~inspired~ to do art. Also i watched twin peaks around this time and it inspired a lot of Feelings and i was making funky collages and other art pieced that were sometimes related to that. Some of those are on deviantart)

Honestly I think the Big thing with my digital art was coincidentally getting back into BTTF the summer of the 35th anniversary bc the fandom here was THRIVING and i was like “oh shit wait i want to contribute!” But as i kept drawing i kept wanting to improve and that leads us to right now where im constantly trying new things (whether subtle or obvious) and challenging myself to do full body drawings with different poses, and doing screencap redraws and what have you for various reasons (backgrounds, proportions, pose, etc)

So yeah :) Basically I’ve been doing fan art forever (I didnt even get into all the mediums ive tried but that’s another conversation bc this is already so long and convoluted) and it’s kinda coincidental that ive suddenly really gotten back into it and have improved dramatically in such a short time. Thank you so much @rovermcfly for the ask and again im really sorry you had to wait so long for a response! Stupid tumblr

#rovermcfly #signed sealed delivered #THANK U SM I HOPE U ENJOY KY RAMBLING :)#id love to ramble more if theres anything else u’d like to hear about my art journey :) bc i know this is all over the place lmfao #i will say some periods of life were a bit more inspired than others and thats bc i like will not draw if im too stressed #bc likely if im too stressed im too tired. see: a few weeks ago when that job was draining my life force

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salty-selfships · 2 years

Text

i've been writing a lot abt my one piece oc bcs i wanna draw but its been a long time since ive drawn digitally, and i forgot how to use krita-and also my sketchbook just fan out of pages and i forgot to buy a new sketvhbook last week *sobs* pls i cant

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

heart of stone (6/?)

AO3

Janis ditches the tights and jean shorts by Wednesday. There’s a slight look of ‘I told you so’ on her mother’s face, but she spares Janis the lecture out of politeness. Janis never thought she’d miss them, but here she is.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she scribbles another flower on the page, a twin for the one next to it. Not an exact twin, it’s thinner and its petals are more spiked and sharp than the one she drew before it. It’s less inviting, more dangerous. Angry, even. Like if she picked it up she’d cut her finger on it. She hadn’t intended for it to happen; in fact, she’d set out to doodle some pretty little flowers in an attempt to brighten up her sketchbook. But the pencil, as it often does, did what it wanted. She turns it on the side, trying to find a way to like it. It’s not bad work, not her best but certainly not her worst. Maybe she could like it if she had drawn it earlier, but she had really been hoping to get something nice into her book today.

With a sigh, she sets the book on her lap and swings her body around so that her feet dangle over the edge of her bed. Her next round of chemo isn’t due for a few hours, a long stretch of time to attempt to fill with activity. While she’s only been in the hospital for two full days, she’s decided that the worst part is the waiting around for the next thing to happen. Granted, much of that can be put on her as she’s spent more time in her room than she has anywhere else, distracting herself with TV and art and her parents and texting her friends every chance she can get. It all comes together and forms some kind of routine for her, one that’s built with as much familiarity and comfort as possible woven through it. The only downside to it is that the room’s been getting progressively smaller since two days ago and it wasn’t long before it started choking her.

She left the door slightly open and peers into the hallway, the brightness of the walls striking against the cool tones of her room. She can hear the faint sounds of half-conversations that overlap with each other; nurses gossiping with each other while fiddling with IVs, the inhabitants of the longue talking and laughing about who knows what, doctors prescribing new rounds of medicine. The ward is much more alive than she had Janis ever thought it could be, a constant hum in the background of the day to day life keeps the place awake.

She taps her nails on the cover of her book, her swinging legs gaining momentum as she debates following the pull in her chest, compelling her to maybe leave her room for more than five minutes at a time and follow the sounds of conversation. Maybe talk to people who aren’t her medical team or her parents. Make some friends, because as everyone knows, cancer wards are prime social hotspots. She may not be here forever, but she’ll be here long enough to justify getting comfortable.

What’s the worst that can happen, logic had asked her that first night.

Literally so freaking much, she responded. Friends aren’t exactly her strong suit. Regina was a mistake, Damian was luck, and Cady was a gift. She could indulge her inner loser and tell herself it’s because she’s special and tailor made to a few specific people, but the thought of that makes her roll her eyes. So she faces up to the truth and all it entails; that she’s merely been unlucky in the friendship department, something that can be boiled down to one terrible experience and everything that came after it and lingers long after the smoke has cleared.

You’re being ridiculous she tells herself. If there’s a Regina George clone here, she’ll be thoroughly impressed. So she pulls her boots on and pushes herself off the bed, quickly explaining to her mom that she’s going to hang out in the longue for a bit.

“You need me to come with you?”

“I’m fine,” she says, a small smile on her face as she pulls on a cardigan. She nods at the intense competitive cooking show her mom has on the TV. “Tell me who wins. And don’t leave out any details.”

“Well we both know it’s not going to be Leticia judging by the look of that beef,” she says seriously. Janis clicks her tongue before turning and heading down, her steps smaller than normal and her sketchbook held against her chest like a shield. Her stomach twists uneasily, not from the chemo or anything like that, just from good old-fashioned anxiety. In an odd way, it’s a relief to feel ill in that way.

When she pushes herself past the open doors, all eyes turn to her and only look away to talk with other people. It’s far more populated than the last time she was here, people sitting in groups of two and three, most in pyjamas and some with hats. But all of them in groups, belonging with each other. Is this how Cady felt all those months ago, when she and Damian spotted her heading to the bathroom? Maybe her girlfriend had the right idea that day. A bathroom stall is a way better alternative to a room full of strangers.

Unfortunately, she knows better by now, and so she settles in an armchair as gracefully as she can, her legs tucked beneath her, and tries to shake off the discomfort she feels by opening her book and giving her hands something to do.

“You’re new,” a girl sitting on the floor states. She’s one of the few that actually has hair, dark brown and curly, and it makes Janis feel a little more at ease. Is that bad, she has to ask.

“Third day,” she explains, offering her a small wave. “I’m Janis.”

“Melissa,” she says. She leans back on her arms and exposes a little bandage inside her elbow. Janis pulls her own arm a little closer. Melissa doesn’t seem to notice, instead gesturing to her with her chin.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” she asks, her cheeks growing warm. “Oh, just some drawings I do.”

“Cool,” she says. “So you do art?”

“Sometimes it’s like the art does me," she says dryly, earning a chuckle. “But you know how it is.”

“My best friend says that all the time,” Melissa sighs. “She says she wants to go to art college but I’ve watched her cry over trying to hand in assignments.”

“You sound like my mom,” Janis replies. “Literally every time I bring up doing art in college she tells me how stressful it is.” She shrugs lightly. “She’s not wrong, but it’s the only thing I want to do.”

“Is your mom here?”

“Yeah, she’s back in my room,” she explains. “I left her watching some cooking show on TV.”

“Wow, and you’ve only just here. I’ve been here for a month and I only just got my mom to let me out of her sight,” she sighs, a resigned smile on her face and her eyebrow raised in a silent ‘you know how it is’. “Want to play some Scrabble? We’ve started keeping a scoreboard so we can add you in. We have a whole tournament going.”

“Sounds fun,” Janis says, pushing herself off the chair. “Although I should give you warning, I’m dyslexic, so I kind of suck at it.”

Janis follows her across the longue, slipping her hand into her pocket when she thinks she sees the other girl reach out to her. There’s a pang of guilt in Janis’ chest even though Melissa doesn’t seem to care, and she does her best to work through it. She exchanges names and smiles with other kids, all introduced by Melissa. It’s an odd feeling; she’s not used to being the one who’s introduced. She’s either known people so long she doesn’t need to or she’s the one making the introduction, but today her mouth feels dry and her tongue tied so much that all she can do is say ‘hi’ and try to keep up with the rest of the little group. But despite this, and despite the fact that she does supremely suck at Scrabble, they aren’t half bad. They welcome her in with no problem at all, asking her about school and life and art as they set up tiles and she knows the right questions to ask them. She laughs at their jokes and nods along to the conversation, even adding in her own take now and again as it builds into a steady flow.

It’s not entirely perfect; she can’t help but feel slightly on the outside when they bring up a nurse or a patient she doesn’t know and she’s much more quiet than she’s used to being, unsure which, if any, topics are off-limits, where the lines are. But she’s enjoying herself enough to drown out her earlier worries even if it can’t make them fade entirely, and her mood only picks up when she hears someone behind her say (squeal) her name, followed a flash of pink and rainbow appearing in her vision. How times change when a pink sweater can make her smile instead of grimace.

“Maddie!” The younger girl leans into her side, eyes bright and sparkling, and Janis puts an arm around her shoulders. “Hey kid, where have you been?”

“Where have you been more like,” she replies. “I haven’t seen you since Monday.”

“Been busy,” she says. No one presses, likely because they all understand. They’ve all been where she is before. “And now I’m busy losing at Scrabble. Badly.” Maddie chuckles and when her arms wrap around Janis and chin rests on her shoulder, she can’t say no to it. There’s nothing uncomfortable about such a gesture and it almost feels as natural as hugging Damian or when Karen rests her head on her shoulder, despite her only knowing the girl for two days.

“Oh hey, did they tell you about the photography thing yet?” she asks.

“That what now?”

“Oh it’s this thing the cancer centre started,” Melissa explains. “Basically they want us to take pictures of stuff that matters to us. Us doing hobbies, us with our friends, the whole shebang. It’s meant to be about our cancer not defining us or whatever.” She gives a casual shrug. “It’s fun anyway. You should do it. Especially since you have your art thing.”

“Sounds like fun,” she says before poking Maddie in the ribs. “Now come on, kid. Help me make a word out of these.”

And maybe it’s Maddie’s presence or just time passing, but Janis suddenly finds herself a lot less anxious. She even gets to the point where she trades playful insults with another kid, a boy around her age, and form a team up of sorts against him with one of the other girls. They can’t replace her real friends and she wouldn’t try to, the bonds she’s formed with Damian and Cady are too important and were put through too much to be replicated, but she suspects that they could quickly become new friends.

What’s more, treatments and diagnosis come in and out of the conversation with unexpected ease, and when Janis talks about her own, it’s the same. She hadn’t realised how much of this she’d held back, even in her texts and calls with Damian and talks with her mom. And while she feels bad for it, it also feels so, so good to talk to people like this. People who aren’t her parents or her doctors. People who are, well… like her.

And as it turns out, her next round is scheduled the same time as Melissa’s, and so they head down the hallway together. While Melissa continues to make conversation, Janis’ responses dwindle the closer she gets to her room. It doesn’t take long for the good feeling from the longue to fade, and the image of the needle in her vein becomes sharper in her mind.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Janis asks suddenly.

“Sure.”

“Does it…” She swallows past the lump in her throat. She finds a loose thread on her cardigan and toys with it until the question comes out. “Does it ever get easier? All this?”

“Well…” Melissa stops in their tracks and Janis almost trips as she does the same, immediately regretting asking. The other girl bites her lip, searching for the right answer. It feels like hours before she says “I don’t really know. I can’t speak for you. We’re all different here.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I guess you get used to it. So it starts getting less scary, I guess.”

Janis only nods and then Melissa reaches out and taps her arm.

“It doesn’t stop sucking,” she sighs. “You just get used to it sucking.”

“And then we all bond over it sucking?” she asks, smirking.

“You get it,” she replies with a laugh. “See you later, Janis.”

“Bye.”

After Melissa leaves, she lingers in the hallway for a minute, pressing her finger into the spot where her IV goes. The problem is exactly what Melissa said-you get used to it. And she really, really doesn’t want to get used to it. Getting used it to means that she’ll be here for a while, that something else replaces her old life. Especially now, after the year she had last year, she wants to get used to good stuff, not stuff that ‘sucks’. The idea of this, medicines and hospitals and doctors, becoming normal to her sends a shiver down her back.

But she learned a while ago how to live in reality, even when it’s not what she wants. And it’s with that attitude she walks into her room, where she finds not only her IV set up, but a text from Cady detailing something funny from her math class and how much she misses her.

Even if she gets used to everything else, she knows she’ll never, ever get used to missing Cady.

*****

Friday morning, she wakes later than she normally does. It’s a slow process at the start, sleep pulling her in and begging her to stay, the hospital-issue sheets softer than soft around her and forming a cosy cocoon that she’s so tempted to remain in.

That is, until she remembers what day it is, and then she’s jolted awake.

Friday. Or as she’s called it, Damian-and-Cady day.

It was an unspoken agreement that the two of them were visiting her in here. Just like her father, they were insistent on coming over every moment they could, with Damian jokingly suggesting he could hide under her bed and they could have a sleep over (which they had considered in seriousness and attempted to plan). But thanks to a little thing called school, and another thing called distance, today was the first day she could see them, which is why now she’s wide awake, bright eyed, bushy tailed, everything. Because she’s finally seeing them again and filling the hole in her soul being away from them had carved.

“Morning, kid,” her mom says cheerily, entering the room with a cup of coffee in one hand. “They’re still serving breakfast downstairs, or if you want it brought up to you-”

“Sounds great, Mom,” she replies, only half paying attention. She turns on her phone, her leg bouncing anxiously as she waits for it to load. Has it always been this slow at turning on? She swears it hasn’t been. It takes an eternity for her lockscreen to come up, the time written across it in thin white numbers.

“Ten thirty?” she reads out loud before her head snaps up. “Mom, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Why would I?” she asks. “You need all the rest you can get, and you’ve still got time before you’re due a round.”

“I know,” she sighs, rubbing her eyes. “But Cady and I text good morning to each other and it was my turn this morning. I don’t want her to think I forgot.”

“Well, I’m sure Cady understands. You know, with all that’s going on, maybe she’s not expecting good mornings right now.”

“Course she is,” she replies quickly. In what universe would Cady not wait for a good morning from her? “It’s our thing. Didn’t you and Dad have a thing?” She types out the message and sends it quickly, although Cady probably won’t see it for at least another two hours.

“Oh, you think we did good morning e-mails back in those days?” she says, laughing a little. She sits on the bed next to her on the bed. “So are you getting some breakfast? Someone can bring it up if you don’t feel up to going down, I’ll just tell them what you want-”

“It’s fine, Mom.” She reaches under the bed and pulls on a sweater before slipping into her boots and raking a brush through her hair. “I might as well go down. Someone might take the last yogurt while I’m down there.”

Truthfully, she doesn’t really feel like eating. Not anything bad, she’s just not hungry, but it’ll put her mom’s mind at ease. Just as she thought, the tension fades from her mom’s shoulders, and when she pats her shoulder, there’s more relief in her smile than just breakfast warrants.

She eats in her room, with the TV on, like she does when she’s sick at home. She could eat in the dining room, but despite the new friends she’s made she prefers eating in private, especially away from the buzzing nurses. As she flips around the channels, her phone buzzes on the plastic table, the screen lighting up to show her a new text that makes her smile and roll her eyes at once.

‘Good morning, babe. Can’t wait to see you today. Also, ik I can’t really change it now, but what do we think of the outfit?’

Beneath the message is a picture of Cady in her bedroom mirror, clad in a black vest and blue flannel shirt with white skinny jeans, her hair held back in a high, loose ponytail, soft curls framing her round face, her eyes looking up at the mirror as she gives an open, toothy grin. And Janis can’t help it, she squeals. God damn it, her girlfriend is cute.

‘Love it, love it, love it. You’re the queen of cuteness. And apparently, texting during class. Stop doing that. If I get a text from you between now and lunch I will not cuddle you later.’

‘I’m not texting during class, it’s study hall.’ Wow, what on Earth has happened to the ever-studious, rule following Cady Heron? Not even Plastic Cady texted during study hall. ‘Besides, you have to cuddle with me. It’s legally required and I’m deprived of Janis cuddles.’

‘Only if you be good and don’t text during school hours.’ She fires back, chuckling under her breath. ‘And you remain that freaking adorable.’

“Well someone’s in a good mood.” She looks up and sees Doctor Wiley standing in the doorway, and her smile dips a little, the perfect bubble she was sitting in with Cady ruined. Not enough to ruin her mood, nothing could do that, but it shakes it.

“It’s her girlfriend,” her mom explains.

“How do you know that?”

“Your smile,” she says. “It’s your ‘Cady smile’.”

“I don’t…” Her voice trails off and her mom simply shrugs. Well look at that. She’s that girlfriend now.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Wiley says, striding towards her. Under the table, Janis crosses her fingers that this is a normal good morning visit. She’ll take bad news on any day that’s not Damian-and-Cady day. “So, Janis, a lot of us on your team have been talking and we’ve decided to ask if you might want to get a port inserted.”

“A what?” she asks.

“Think of it like a little reservoir put underneath your skin,” he explains. “Just to make receiving the chemo easier on you. A lot of patients have one put in.”

“Oh, wow.” Way to bring the mood down, Doc, she thinks. Sometimes she envies the younger patients who have their parents making all the hard decisions. Still, one word sticks out in all that. “It makes it easier?”

“Quite a bit easier,” he agrees. “For one thing, it’s a lot more comfortable than an IV.” There’s a plus. “And a lower risk of your medicine leaking out-”

“Sounds cool,” she interrupts quickly before he can bring up an image she doesn’t want. “Um, can I think about it? I mean, is it urgent?”

“No, of course not,” Wiley replies with a stiff smile. “I’ll let you and your mom discuss it.”

He leaves them after an uncomfortable silence, nodding to her and her mom and reminding her that he’s around if she has any questions.

“So what do you think?” her mom asks.

“I don’t think.” She picks her phone back up and jumps off the bed. “Where did you put my clothes?”

“I put everything in your bag, it’s under the bed,” she replies. Janis pulls out her bag, sorting through the mass of denim, cotton, plaid and leather, all while her mom hovers behind her with anxious eyes that drill into her back. "Janis, you should consider this.”

“And I will,” she sighs. She pulls out a shirt she’s always liked and throws it on the bed. “Just not right now.” She shakes her head, trying to clear some of the smoke in her brain. Still sitting on the ground, she looks up at her mom and sighs. “Mom, I just want to not think about cancer stuff right now. I just want to see my friends and think about that.” She toys with the shirt in her hands and bunches it into a tight ball, her arms tense and shaking and her grip tight. “Is that okay?”

Her voice sounds impossibly broken on that question. And while it wasn’t intentional, it works on her mom, who nods and comes over to pat her hair.

“Okay, sweetie,” she says, and that’s the temporary end of it.

The day passes even slower than it normally does in hospital-time. Hours stretch on and on with no end in sight and she can’t distract herself no matter what she tries to do. She can’t focus long enough to read or settle on one TV show and even games in the longue can only get her so far. She tries checking her social media when on her IV, but she’s hardly there a minute before her anxiety peaks again after seeing pictures of her friends. Besides, it’s mostly dry now, everyone else is in class.

Finally, finally, it comes to the afternoon and it’s close enough that she can justify beginning to get ready. She stretches, grateful for the little power nap she took earlier, and fishes her make-up out of her bag. It’s not everything, but it’ll have to work, as will the tiny mirror in her bathroom.

“What’s going on in here?” The voice makes Janis jump six feet, even though it’s the honey-toned voice of one of the older nurses. “Little makeover.”

“Just wanted to look nice today,” she explains as she unscrews the foundation. She’s a little bit surprised to see that she’s not out of practice since she’s been bare-faced for well over a week now. Bigger priorities and all that.

“Her girlfriend’s coming over today,” her mom says in a low voice.

“It’s not just that,” she says, even though it might be. “Damian will also be here.”

“Oh you kids and your relationships,” the nurse chuckles as she takes the empty bags out. In the mirror, Janis sees her point sternly in her direction as though she were her mother. “Just remember Janis, if she really cares about you, she won’t care how much muck you have on your face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says as she applies a coat of eyeshadow, deep indigo and sparkling under the low lights. She adds a generous amount of purple lipstick next, a shade that’s always been a favourite of hers, and four coats of mascara. Some say that’s overkill, she disagrees. Bigger, bolder, better after all.

She takes a second before looking at herself properly, and when she does it makes her happier than it has any right to be. She looks like herself again. Not a girl with cancer. A girl who is perfectly healthy and happy, the dark circles around her eyes and the pale tint to her face deliberate. Not only that, she feels stronger, even though she hadn’t been aware of any weakness before. She can breathe easier now. She’s herself again. A little winded but it was worth it.

When she’s done, Cady and Damian should get out of school in about ten minutes. They worked it all out; they’ll get the first bus from school up to the hospital, which should take about twenty-five minutes. She offered to pay their bus tickets and her mom had offered to pick them up, but neither one of them would hear any of it. Damian in particular would die before accepting money from anyone.

So she has just over half an hour. Maybe closer to forty minutes when factoring in waiting for the bus and various stops…

She probably should have left the make-up to later just to give herself something to do.

No, it’s fine. The last thing she wants is them walking in on her doing her make-up. Besides, there’s plenty to do for half an hour. She’s waited this long after all. She checks her outfit again, first in the bathroom mirror, by bouncing repeatedly, and then by using the camera on her phone. This morning she was sure about this outfit. Now she’s not sure about this skirt. Maybe if her mom had woken her up earlier she’d have had more time to plan it. The shirt is fine, it’s something Cady loves, so she won’t trade it, but the skirt… it’s not working. She grabs more stuff from her bag and lays it out on the bed, debating each one carefully. There’s a pair of studded shorts that she doesn’t think looks right with the shirt, a pair of jeans that would be far too uncomfortable, and a dark grey skirt that she’s not worn that much and is a little short-

“Holy crap,” she sighs. She shakes her head at herself. She hasn’t obsessed this much over her looks since middle school. “You’re insane, Sarkisian. You’re fine.”

They’ve both seen her look worse, surely.

She forces herself to sit on the bed and just watch some freaking YouTube like a normal person. She gets a text from Damian telling her they’re on their way, and she takes a deep breath and sends a response. She then has one eye on the phone and one eye on the window, all the while counting the minutes until they should be here.

Twenty five minutes. One video later, it’s twenty one. Another video, eighteen. Another video, plus a sip of the coffee her mom got her, fourteen. Another video, plus re-checking her make-up, ten. Another video, six. Another video, three.

And now they should be here. They probably are; they’re probably walking through the lobby. Maybe the elevator’s a little slow, maybe they got lost. This is a big place and they don’t even know where they ward is. Do they? Did she tell them? She grabs her phone and checks their groupchat, scrolling through the week-

“Janis?” Her name is accompanied by a soft knock on the door, and when she looks up, Cady is standing in the doorway, looking even more beautiful than she did that morning with a breathless smile and dimples in her cheeks. And everything else she was feeling melts away.

Janis doesn’t care about dignity, she runs over and throws her arms around her. As Cady hugs her back just as fiercely, Janis fights the urge to pick her up off the floor.

“I missed you,” Cady whispers into her shoulder.

“I missed you more,” she replies, certain that she’s correct.

“Well I’ll just go then,” Damian jokes. “If you two need a moment alone.”

“Don’t even think about it,” she tells him seriously, jumping into his embrace. He runs his hand through her hair and even rocks her and everything about his embrace feels right.

“Got you these,” he says when they eventually pull apart. He presents her with a bunch of white flowers wrapped in silver paper. The scent is just like the gesture; so sweet it makes her well up.

“Oh you losers,” she says. “I love them.”

“Hi kids,” her mom greets from her chair in the corner. To be honest, Janis had actually forgotten her mom was there. So her mom has watched her run across the room and tackle-hug Cady. Nice. “How was school?”

“It’s fine,” Cady replies. “You know… senior year….”

“Oh I’m sure it is,” she says fondly. “I’ll give you kids some alone time.” She gives Janis’ shoulder a squeeze before heading out, and then Janis can hold Cady’s hand as tightly as she wants and pulls the two of them to the bed, utterly giddy at having them at her side again.

Even if it won’t last a voice in her head whispers.

“So come on, what have I missed?” she asks. “Other than you two, I mean. Tell me everything. Spill all the tea. I crave gossip!”

“It’s been a week, Jan,” Cady tells her, grinning and swinging her legs as her feet don’t touch the floor. “But, you do know that you’re talking to the newest captain of the North Shore Mathletes.”

“Come on then.” Janis digs her elbow in her girlfriend’s ribs. “Tell me everything.”

That’s all the incentive Cady needs.

She babbles on about her plans for the new year as Captain, how she’s already getting new recruits and she’s even allowed to invite freshmen and create Junior Mathletes, how she’s sure that membership is going to be double what it was last year (at which point Damian reminds her that there were only three people on the team last year), and about how they’re already starting to put together teams for a few contests, more than last year, and of course, how she’s ready to defend their state champion title. With each word, Janis’ heart grows warmer, the sense of security she’s craved all week settling and wrapping around her like her favourite blanket, and their hands lie intertwined on the bed a though they’d never been apart.

“So that’s my life…” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. She shakes her head and covers Janis’ hand with hers. “But what about you, what’s it like in here?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she scoffs. “I’m always fine.” Cady’s smile dips, not enough, but Janis notice and let out a sigh. “I mean it’s not the ideal situation. But I’m… coping?”

“I do not like that inflection,” Damian adds, leaning back on the bed and raising an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t,” she says. “Like, it’s not too bad. You know… the food is actually pretty good, we have some cool stuff in the longue, they know how to keep us occupied. The doctors are all great. Including one hot med student I’m considering setting Damian up with.”

“Consider my attention grabbed,” he says. “How hot are we talking here?”

“Like… Okay I’m not into dudes, so I’m not that great at guessing, but he’s a solid 7.5,” she explains. “Would be a 9 but he stabbed me several times while trying to find a vein.”

“He did what?” Cady squeals, making the two of them jump. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. “He stabbed you?”

“Woah, yeah.” She grasps Cady’s shoulder and silently bites her tongue. She rubs it in circles, bringing her back down. “And it hurt for a few seconds and I was slightly annoyed by it. And then we laughed about it.” She strokes Cady’s cheek carefully. “Nothing bad, Caddy.”

“Okay.” Cady lets out a breath and shakes out her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, love.” She plays a kiss on her cheekbone, the tension fleeing Cady’s body as she does so. She tangles her fingers in her hair. She even missed her hair. “It’s cute that you worry so much.”

“I always worry about you.” At that moment, Damian turns his attention to the window, and Cady rests her head on Janis’ shoulder and Janis wraps her arms around her. This, the fearful looks and causing anxiety to her, this is what Janis wanted to avoid in the first place.

Damn Cady Heron and her unflinching loyalty.

“You’re feeling okay though?” she asks quietly. “Right?”

“Okay’s a bit of a relative term these days,” she says. “I’m feeling a bit bleh. But it’s fine.” Cady murmurs something she guesses is an agreement and nestles closer to her. Janis rubs her hand up and down her arm. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” She presses her cheek into her head and closes her eyes, only for a moment.

“Anyway, enough of that stuff,” she says, bouncing and turning to Damian, beckoning him back over. “There’s got to be more that I’ve missed. Come on, spill.”

“Well…” Damian begins, spinning around to face them with a grin stretched across his face. He’s been waiting to tell her this, she can tell. “They’ve announced that the musical this year will be… drum roll.”

She can Cady drum their hands on their legs, the sound bouncing off the walls and making the room tremble with anticipation as it gets higher and faster until-.

“Cabaret!”

“No way!” she gasps. Damian nods excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clapping his hands together. “Stars have aligned, mon amie. Stars have aligned.”

“Which means,” he goes on, throwing himself down on the bed with such gusto that it bounces. “I am going to be the greatest Emcee that North Shore High would ever wish to have.”

“Damn right!” The two high five, their glee double that of the slightly out of the loop Cady. “Emcee has been one of Damian’s dream roles ever since middle school.”

“Ever since I came out of the damn womb!” he exclaims. “I cannot tell you how much I screamed when the drama club announced it.”

“I can,” Cady adds. “It was loud and long and he got several death glares from everyone else.”

“That’s the only appropriate way to react,” Janis chuckles. “We watched the movie way back when and that’s when he decided he was going to play the Emcee or die trying.”

“It’s also when Janis became gay for Liza Minelli.”

“I’m gay for myself,” she corrects. “Liza was just the object of young Janis’ affections.” She rests her chin on Cady’s shoulder and smiles at him. “I’m helping you prep for this. I don’t care if I have to break out of here with an IV in my arm, I’m helping you.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replies. “Also the drama club is devastated you can’t do the set this year.”

“Who the heck says I can’t?” she says indignantly. “Those morons they have won’t last five minutes without my guidance. And I will not have your shining moment ruined by a subpar set.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “We all know who really runs that drama club.”

“Oh really, madame,” Damian scoffs, turning so his leg is folded beneath him. Janis keeps smiling, despite the feeling that its being tugged down and the weight settling in her stomach. Of all the times he had to do Cabaret, why did it have to be now?

“Everyone really missed you at school,” Cady tells her.

“Bet it’s not everyone,” she says, half joking. “Not one person in particular.”

“Hey!” Cady slaps her arm. “Be nice.”

“I promised to play nice to her face,” Janis reminds her. “Not behind her back.” Cady huffs out a laugh, her face slightly scrunched up. “But how’s the most important thing; LGBT+ society?”

“Well, we’re having our first welcome back meeting on Wednesday,” Damian says. “And Gretchen is taking over your stall at the fair. Sonja’s going to help her out though,” he adds. “And Sonja’s taking over your spot on the committee too.”

“Good choice,” she says. Lovely as Gretchen is most of the time, Janis isn’t sure she could handle the pressure of running her stall. And Sonja’s the perfect choice to take over her committee spot, smart as a whip, decisive and funny as hell.

So why does the idea make Janis so uneasy?

“Yeah, why don’t we turn this TV on?” she says, grabbing the remote. “It apparently has Netflix, although I’m not entirely sure how to operate it. There’s a load of DVDs in the longue as well.”

“A DVD. Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Damian says.

“I don’t think they have Cabaret though,” she sighs. “Which would be perfect for us right now.” She’s telling half-truths, because there’s a substantial collection of old movies, including musicals, but she doesn’t really want to brave the longue now, or to take them in there. The longue is probably her favourite place in the hospital, but it’s bound to be full right now. And for now, she wants to keep her cancer world and the real world separate.

So with some fussing, they manage to find Netflix and learn how to work it. Cady is insistent that Janis pick the movie, since it’s her room and she doesn’t know half of them and has already watched the other half. At the start of the summer, Janis had made Cady a list of every movie she needed to watch, and by the end of August they’d almost made it to the halfway mark. The best part wasn’t the movies themselves; it was the movie nights. Huddled under a comforter and surrounded by pillows, Cady’s body pressed against hers and the lights down low, buttery popcorn and sugar-covered candies keeping them going until one (usually Cady) fell asleep.

Now they make do with the thin hospital bed and the near-plastic sheets. At least they can adjust the height of it, and Janis positions Cady against her and Damian sits in the comfiest chair to watch The Parent Trap. It’s none of their favourites, but it’s familiar and good enough and while it wasn’t on the list, Cady hasn’t seen it yet. Besides, Damian can make any more fun.

And really, Janis can’t take any more of the back and forth debate.

The more the movie goes on, the more normal Janis feels. She runs her fingers up and down Cady’s bare arms, her girlfriend’s jacket discarded across a chair like she would in her house. The conversation is light and easy and full of giggles even at the stupidest, silliest thing, Damian quoting along with the movie and Cady hopelessly lost, especially at around halfway through when Janis decides to tell her that Annie and Hallie were played by the same person.

“No way!” she declares. “I’m not believing you until I see proof.”

“Google it,” she says. “Damian?”

“Way ahead of you.” He pulls up the page and shows her the cast list, with one little Lohan billed as the two twins. Cady’s mouth falls on the floor, her shoulders shaking in a silent, disbelieving laugh.

“Jesus Christ!” she says. “How did they do that all the way back then?”

“Movie magic,” Janis replies, wiggling her fingers for effect. “It’s okay, Caddy, we all felt betrayed when we first found out.”

“Didn’t she go off her rocker a bit?” she asks, pointing to the screen. “I know that much. Regina told me.”

“A little,” Janis agrees. “But I kind of feel bad for her, you know?”

“I guess.”

“Oh. Oh!” The camera pans up, revealing the striking and scary figure of Meredith Blake, and Janis squeezes Cady’s arms. “I hated this bitch.”

“I hated her more,” Damian adds, his tone not 100% light. “When I first watched this I had this soon-to-be stepmom, because my dad was back in the dating game, and she was…” He gags and points down his throat.

“Real mature, Damian,” Janis jokes. “I mean she absolutely was, but still. Mature.”

“Okay, missy,” he laughs. “Nah but I used to try to get inspiration from how to deal with her from this movie.”

“Shh!” she hisses sharply, covering Cady’s ears. “Spoilers!”

“I can still hear you,” Cady tells her. “And I could sort of guess. All the movies about step parents do that kind of thing, don’t they? Bratty kid gets wreaks havoc on the step parent?”

“Are you saying thirteen year old me was a brat?” Damian asks.

“Seventeen year old you is also a brat,” Janis teases. Damian gasps and grabs the cushion from the chair, aiming it at her head. Part of her is completely sure he wouldn’t, not in a hospital, part of her is completely sure he would because of course he would.

She doesn’t find out either way, because their gathering is interrupted by her medical team, and the weight in her stomach comes back with a vengeance.

“Not getting in the way are we?” Nurse Lucy asks.

“Not at all,” she says. Before she stops herself, she’s already pushing Cady off her. Heat rises in her cheeks. “That time again?”

“Unfortunately so,” she replies as Cady slides off the bed. “Is it okay if Jackson does it this time?”

“Yeah, sure.” As she rolls up her sleeve, her friends catch on to what’s happening, and Damian rushes to Cady’s side.

“I promise I’ll find the vein this time,” Jackson jokes.

“Oh this is the one you said-” Cady is cut off by Janis making a small ‘cut it out’ gesture with her hand. She then raises an eyebrow at Damian, whose small smirk tells her everything she needs to know.

She takes a look at her IV and her bare arm before turning back to them. She still hates this; shockingly, she hasn’t gotten used to it in under a week. Her stomach still drops a hundred feet when she looks at the needle and her chest tightens even if she’s only thinking about it.

“You guys don’t need to watch this,” she tells them. “It doesn’t hurt. But if you need to look away, it’s fine.”

“I’m fine,” Cady tells her. When Janis looks down though, she sees how tightly she’s holding Damian’s hand.

“Okay,” she says.

This time around it only takes Jackson three tries to find her vein before securing it with the bandage. Good for him. He’s learning.

“You know the drill by now?” Lucy asks.

“Two hours, stay hydrated.” She gives her a two-fingered salute.

“Two hours?” Cady echoes, and Janis has to chuckle at it. “This takes two hours?”

“That’s what she said the first time she found out,” Lucy says, gesturing to Janis. “I can see why you two like each other so much.”

“No but… two hours,” she says again as they leave. “What do you do for two hours?”

“I just… sit here I guess,” she answers, looking up at the medicine. “You know, there’s TV. I have books. I draw. Sometimes it knocks me out and I get a little surprise nap, so that’s fun.”

“Is that… should we go?” Cady asks. “If you’re going to-”

“Oh no.” She shakes her head firmly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.” She’s such a liar it’s a wonder her tongue hasn’t turned black and crumbled. “Come on. Let’s finish the movie at least.”

Cady lays beside her rather than on her, and Damian stays on the other side of the bed, away from her IV. She catches him once or twice, watching the drip instead of the movie. His gaze is unreadable, and since she’s always been able to know his thoughts without him speaking, it unsettles her.

It’s not long before that familiar tiredness descends on her, clouding her mind and pulling her downwards. And she fights it; she keeps her eyes open despite how they itch and shifts her body when she finds herself too comfortable lest she start drifting off. It’s a challenge, not just because of the medicine’s effect on her, but because of Cady’s warmth next to her, promising security and comfort and being there when she wakes up.

And she must have given into it at one point, because she opens her eyes after a blink and the movie is over; Nick and Elizabeth are together again, Annie and Hallie stay with each other forever, happy endings all around.

“What time is it?” Janis asks.

“Nearly five,” Damian explains. Visiting hours don’t end for another two hours. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” she asks. “I’m fantastic.”

“You sure?” Cady’s hand is on hers, slowly linking their fingers together. Janis squeezes her hand, clarity coming into her mind by her own will.

“Of course I’m sure.”

They don’t have to be home for another hour. Home for dinner, that’s the rule. That doesn’t really change. Damian tells her that his mom is thinking about her every day and was beside herself when she heard the news.

“She’s started following more baking blogs,” he tells her. “So prep yourself for a lot of baked goods on your doorstep.”

“I can’t object to that,” she says. “Especially since Val always bakes with love.”

At some point during the hour, Janis pulls Cady into her lap again, or Cady crawls into it, or both. Her head is under her chin and her back against her chest, slotting into place perfectly. Like if she holds her this close, she won’t have to leave.

Wishful thinking, she knows, because when it gets close to six, Cady picks up her jacket and her backpack and there’s nothing but empty air against Janis’ body.

She wishes she could lead them to the door, but her IV catches on everything, so they say their goodbyes where they are.

“Don’t miss me too much,” she warns them teasingly.

“I hardly ever think about you,” Damian replies, his voice thick.

“And you,” she tells him. “Better run lines with me. When’s auditions?”

“Next Thursday,” he tells her. “So I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Perfect,” she says. “I have treatments at 11, at 2… You know what? I’ll text you them.”

“Okay. And you were right by the way. That med student is a snack.” They laugh, and then there’s a moment of silence before he folds her in his arms, her face burying itself in the crook of his neck and his hand cupping the back of her head. “Take of yourself, okay?” His voice is so soft, so desperate, that it sounds like a plea.

“I will,” she says. “I always do.” Knowledgeable as always, he gives her and Cady space to say goodbye themselves. She rubs her hand on her shorts, nervousness gripping her body in a way she hasn’t felt in a while and she thoroughly dislikes.

“I’ll text you the second I get home,” Cady says. “And can I call you tomorrow?”

“Of course you can,” she says. “As long as you get some homework done tonight, kid.”

“I will,” she says. “I didn’t get the top grade in Norbury’s class for nothing.” Cady takes in a deep breath, her hand fidgeting around her backpack strap and her hair half-hiding her face. Janis reaches out and pushes it back and if she notices her shaking hand, she doesn’t say anything.

“Caddy-”

Janis actually wasn’t sure what she was going to say there, but it doesn’t matter, because Cady steps up and kisses her. It’s not perfect; it feels clumsy and awkward and they bump against each other, but it’s everything Janis needs. So much so that when they pull away, she doesn’t even attempt to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Okay,” she whispers, grinning. “I’ll see you soon.” She steals another peck.

“See you later, Janis,” she whispers. They don’t stop holding hands for as long as they can and Janis is still looking at her until she’s out of view, walking back down the hall with Damian, maybe getting lost again. Down the hall, to the right, into the elevator and out the double doors. Bus stop down the street, next stop home. They ride together until Damian gets off and Cady stays on. All the while she stays here, IV in arm and her phone buzzing, talking to them until she falls asleep.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #cadnis #cady x janis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #damian hubbard #fic: heart of stone

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breathingwithdifficulty · 4 years

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im so fucking done of being stuck in the house with my own sister and it’s becoming very clear that her abusive tendencies haven’t really gone away. she has been commenting on what i eat and what i do during the day (which is not a whole lot but... it’s quarantine. sorry for actually listening to social distancing rules unlike everyone in my house and most of the people in my town). she knows im depressed but her constant negativity and criticism isn’t helping. the whole unfairness of our relationship has become really clear. i basically wait on her hand and foot and when i don’t do something she asks of me, she gets pissed and calls me “lame” or berates me like “its not even that hard” or just “seriously? it’ll take two seconds” like damn bitch do it yourself then. im not your servant just because im your nice little sister.

i don’t ever ask anything of her. literally can’t remember the last time i asked her to do anything for me. i only ever tell her to do stuff like “leave me alone” and “stop messing with that” and “please stop, seriously” and “that hurt” (physically or emotionally) and she NEVER i mean NEVER fucking listens. she doesn’t care. she thinks it’s funny to tease me and torment me and irritate me and then blames me for being too sensitive when i finally snap at her because im pissed off. damn, maybe if you weren’t making it hard for me to breathe by suddenly jumping on me and refusing to get up and leave me alone, i wouldn’t have to push you on the floor and yell at you to get out. maybe if you weren’t constantly hypocritical, i wouldn’t be so irritated with you all the time.

we both have to do our homework at home now which isn’t that big of a deal for me since i can focus a lot better than she can and i know that. but she’s so incredibly inconsiderate. she needs complete silence when she’s doing her homework and says it’s distracting for me to even walk past her when she’s working. so i stay silent. i put headphones in to listen to videos or zoom calls and i warn her if i have to record or talk. i try not to get up and get food or use the bathroom too often. im more than considerate.

however, whenever im doing my homework, she’s facetiming her friend, being on zoom calls without headphones and with the volume on high and her talking at full volume (EVEN AFTER i offered her to use my headphones for her calls multiple times because it’s distracting for me and she was like “of course im not gonna use headphones, that would look silly” like bruh) and singing and talking and literally SCREAMING. like wordless, just screaming because she gets frustrated with her work. bro, i get it. but shut the hell up. god, she would kill me if i did some of the things she does to me while she was working. id literally get cursed and yelled at.

she asks me pretty frequently if i think she’s a good person. i think she’s a good person sometimes. i think she’s too sensitive and can’t take any sort of criticism and lashes out at me because she thinks im pretentious and bratty. she’s straight up told me that she used to resent me (starting from when i was literally a BABY) and still kind of does. she says im much better than i used to be. the only reason she thinks that is because i stopped putting up as much of a fight against her. if i ever say something sassy or rude or even just defend myself, she claims im a dickhead brat who’s spoiled and has a bad attitude. really she’s just a sensitive little bitch.

ive lost four pounds in the past couple weeks because ive been eating less by tracking my calories. i haven’t really been eating a whole lot better but i think four pounds is a pretty good start considering how this is the first time ive really tried and committed to losing weight. but even my sister doesn’t think that’s enough.

i eat a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. she walks up and says “you know, a bagel is equal to like 5 slices of bread.” yes i know. you’ve told me already this week. you told me a month ago. you keep telling me. im just trying to eat, dude, back off and stop trying to make me feel bad because im not eating fruit smoothies and salad and avocado toast like you are. i get it, you’re skinny and healthy and like to pretend you don’t know it but you and i both know that you do. call yourself fat all you want, but my friends have literally asked if you’re a model, you have maybe an inch thick of stomach fat, i can feel the bumps of your spine when i touch your back, and i can see your ribs when you stretch your arms up.

she knows it makes me feel bad when she calls herself fat and she does not care in the slightest. she’s like “oh im getting pretty chunky oh boy” and then ill make a comment about feeling fat and she’ll be like “oh you’re not fat” like bruh i know you think you’re chunky and i have a lot more fat than you do don’t lie to me.

she told me it makes her feel worse about her hairline when i comment about how im insecure about mine. so i stopped saying anything about it. i told her it makes me feel bad when she comments on how im not doing basic things right (cutting an apple, cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming, sweeping. all real examples of things she says im not good at and calls me stupid. how the fuck is someone BAD at sweeping? the floor’s clean now isn’t that what matters?) and she said “well practice makes perfect” and i told her it makes me feel even worse about myself and she was just like “well you don’t know how to clean and you need to learn.”

i know how to clean. ive cleaned my room. ive cleaned the kitchen. ive cleaned our shared bathroom (she came home when i was just finishing up after deep cleaning it and even doing the parts she said she would do because i was just that nice. she immediately criticized me and said i had cleaned with the wrong cleaner and needed to reclean the whole thing again. i said no because that’s ridiculous and it was about to turn into a fight so like the pushy i am i gave in and cleaned. the whole. bathroom. again. but with a different cleaner that wasn’t “greasy” and “only for oil and grease, not bathrooms” and “smelled bad” because that really matters in the long run i guess). i just don’t do it the quickest or maybe the most efficient or the way she would do it but literally WHO CARES. if the floor is swept why does it matter that i didn’t do it as fast as you would. goddamn.

she came into my room while i was drawing on my digital tablet today. i showed her how it worked and everything and she asked to see something that id drawn and i said no (ive never been comfortable showing my art to other people that aren’t strangers online (lol) and she has consistently taken sketchbooks directly from my hands or gone through them when i was in a different room despite me telling her multiple times not to) and she kept asking for a reason and i just said i didn’t want to. she kept interrogating me and i was like “i don’t know what you want me to say” and she was like “i want a logical answer why you won’t show me” and of course i didn’t really have one and so i was just like “i don’t really have one, i just don’t wanna show you because it makes me uncomfortable” and she got pissy and left. fine, leave, don’t want you in here anyways. stop being so offended that you don’t get unfiltered access to everything in my life.

she’s a biology major. im trying to decide on a vague idea for my future major and i can’t remember how it was brought up but i said something about going into STEM and possibly biology and she was like. “aw don’t do that. i mean if it really makes you happy then go ahead but ill be upset and probably a little pissed.” which okay i get that a bit (eh) but ive never even thought about going into bio so she doesn’t have to worry and i told her as much. and then i asked why she wouldn’t want me to and she was like “because everyone knows you’d be better than me at it and i just want to have like... my thing” (i get that too (but maybe if you did your work on time and actually went to class then you’d be better at it. but whatever)) and i said i probably wouldn’t be better but i get that or whatever. and then i think she made a joke and i laughed and she was a few seconds later like “why do you look so smug? like you’re happy about the fact that i think you’re better than me” and i was like “that’s literally not true” and she was like “everyone likes feeling like they’re smart and you feel like you’re better than me and you’re smug about it” (or something like that) and i had to convince her that not i literally do not and am not smug. damn bitch, insecure much? that pissed me off that she would think that low of me to assume that i ENJOYED her insecurities and felt like i was smarter than her. wow. ive told her countless times in depth and with detail that i believe we both have strengths and weakness and neither of us are better than the other, and she still doesn’t believe me. but whatever.

it’s constant, little things like that. ive always managed to let a lot of them slide and that is one of the only reasons she thinks im such a good sister. that and i lie to her a lot about how i feel about her. she says stuff like “im surprised you haven’t killed me in my sleep yet, you’re too good to me, ive been terrible to you” but still continues. but whatever. ive only been waiting for her to move out for four years now, i guess i can wait a few more months (hopefully only that).

she says she’ll get pissed if i don’t call her every week once we aren’t living together and so i say i will but. i don’t want to. i don’t want to tell her about my life and my worried just to have her criticize them or say im being ridiculous. i don’t want to have to live like this forever. im so tired. so so tired.

im not saying it’s all bad. sometimes our donut runs at 2am are nice. and sometimes she is interested in what im doing when no one else is. sometimes, she gives good advice. sometimes we talk for hours on end. she’s one of the first people i go to when im having problems with me my mom. i trust her with somethings. it’s not all bad

but her constant emotional and verbal abuse has shaped me into a scared, pushover little girl with insecurities, trust issues, and guilt. she’s always said i was the favorite and laughs now and says “i think me being mean to you when we were younger was good for you, it too you down a few pegs so now you’re not so spoiled.” it also traumatized me and gave me self esteem issues, but yeah, haha, at least im not a spoiled brat (but to you, i still am, but only when i don’t do what you want or say what you want me to say). thanks for that.

anyways, it’s been a while since ive made a long rant. it’s past 4am and i woke up at 2:30pm today so it’s probably time to sleep and dread waking up in the morning. nice.

4.18.20 4:22AM

#food mention #ed tw #not specifically mentioned but i talked about weight and body image #body image tw #depression tw #emotional abuse #abuse tw #sisterly chronicles #.mine

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milominderbindered · 7 years

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thirty days of skam fic: day eighteen aka, four ways that even and isak try to beat the heat this summer

beginning. accusation. restless. leaves. rainbow. flame. formal. under. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. cans. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. tent. mad. thousand. paper. winter. luxury. letters. promise. simple. future.

[ READ ON AO3 ]

So, Oslo is in the middle of a fucking heatwave.

Isak didn't sign up for this. Summer is nice, sure, a bit of heat is great. But he's still Norwegian and he's pretty sure that means he just wants built to deal with endless weeks of baking hot sun. It's so warm that nothing helps; his and Even’s tiny flat turns into a sauna, no matter what they try and do to cool it down, because buildings like theirs were built to keep the heat in. Isak is trying to complain less these days, but when it comes down to it, he feels rather justified in constantly whining about the heat.

“Ugh,” he spits out, finally giving in and starting to tug off his jeans. He's been laying around the flat shirtless all day, but wearing anything at all seems like a pointless exercise when all he's doing is overheating. “It's officially too hot to wear clothes.”

From across the room, Even glances up, raising his eyebrows and watching Isak shuck off his jeans, followed by his sweaty underwear, until he's just lying naked and starfished out on their bed.

“No complaining from me,” Even says, grinning. In theory he's supposed to be drawing, but Isak’s been watching him for ages and he knows Even has spent about twice as much time staring off into space as he has looking down at his sketchbook. So he doesn't feel particularly bad about distracting him.

“Ehh, it's not actually any better though,” Isak complains a moment later. The problem isn't that he was wearing too-warm clothes before, it's just that the air itself is too hot, and that means there is nothing Isak can do to escape. He feels sweaty even just lying back against their blankets. “There should be some kind of rule of the universe, saying it's never allowed to get so warm that you're even hot when you're naked.”

“But baby, you're always hot when you're naked,” Even says, grinning as he throws down his pencil and starts heading towards Isak. Isak just rolls his eyes, but watches rather happily; Even’s shirtless too, wearing just an old pair of basketball shorts, and he looks all long and gorgeous and starkly pale in the bright, warm sunlight filtering through their open windows. His hair’s a bit sweaty and sticking to his forehead, but Isak imagines he doesn't look any better either; Even is still the most gorgeous sight in the world.

As Even drops playfully onto the mattress and crawls over Isak’s body, Isak warns him, “It’s too hot to have sex, Even.”

But somehow, they end up spending the whole afternoon fooling around. Neither of them get anything done at all -- and that is why ‘just don't wear any clothes’ eventually gets shelved as an idea on how to beat the heat. Their lives would grind to a complete halt if they tried that every day.

ii.

At first, it seems obvious to just leave all the windows and the doors to their little balcony open, so some air can get into the flat and cool it down. But there are two problems with that. The first is that there isn't actually a breeze coming from anywhere, so it's just as hot outside as it is inside, and that means the stale heat just sits around the flat as if the whole place was sealed up anyway.

The second problem is that every bug in Oslo seems to take that as invitation to invade their home. After spending a whole hour one night catching giant moths in cups and setting them free outside, because Even is terrified but also refuses to let Isak kill anything, Isak nixes the window idea as well.

iii.

“Why don't we just go out?” Even says, one particularly hopeless day when they're taking it in turns to stand in front of the open freezer. “There must be somewhere nearby with air conditioning.”

“A coffee shop?” Isak suggests. That's one of the problems with living in a country not built for this sort of heat; of course old buildings like theirs don't have air conditioning, but there's no guarantee that shops do either. But a relatively big cafe opened up just down the street recently, and he's pretty sure they will at least have a fan.

So Isak messages the guys, and puts on the bare minimum amount of clothes he can justify, and they head off. The walk is sweltering but the first step into the coffee shop makes it all worth it -- Isak is immediately hit by a glorious wall of cool air.

Just spending all day away from their flat might not be a perfect solution either, though. The guys meet them there, and it's fun to hang out, especially since Jonas and Magnus are both working this summer, and Mahdi’s been away visiting his aunt, so they haven't all had as many chances to hang out as usual. But there's only so much you can do in a coffee shop. They can't drink or skate or get high or even have very loud conversations. After about an hour, it just gets relentlessly boring, and by hour two Isak is almost wishing for their hellfire-temperature home.

Because that's the other thing; as much as Isak is loathe to admit it, being with Even has turned him into a total homebody. He still likes seeing his friends and going to parties and stuff, but at the end of the day, Isak would rather be curled up in bed with his boyfriend watching a movie and getting his hair stroked than going on any sort of vast adventure.

They do hang out with the guys for a bit longer, eventually going back to Mahdi’s cus he has a basement room which stays a bit colder. They play video games and Even teaches Magnus some terrible dance moves and it's fun, if still way too warm to get anything productive done.

Still, Isak and Even are home by 21:00 that night, and Isak immediately drags Even into bed.

“Can we just stay home tomorrow?” he asks, from his safe space cuddled up in the crook of Even’s arm. “I don't care if it's gonna be a million degrees in here all day, going outside is exhausting.”

“You're so antisocial,” Even teases him, but it sounds fond as he presses a kiss into Isak’s hair. “Of course we can stay home, baby. We’ll just pretend it's our own private sauna.”

iv.

The water pressure in their shower is awful. When he was younger and it got too hot in the summer, Isak used to just take lots of hour-long cold showers, but here it barely makes any difference -- it's like standing under a gentle rainfall and just ends with Even complaining that their water bill is gonna go up, when it's already too high because all too often they try to shower together and end up making out against the wall for an hour and forgetting to turn the water off.

Their tiny flat doesn't have a bath, either, and Isak resolutely refuses to break into another private pool for as long as he lives -- no matter how many time Even goes on about how romantic it would be to recreate their first kiss -- so he's long given up on water-based solutions by the third week of the heatwave.

Even, though, has always been the more enterprising out of the two of them, and one day he comes home from the morning shift at work with nothing other than an inflatable plastic kiddie pool tucked under his arm.

Isak bursts out laughing when he sees it. It's the kind you'd use to cool down a toddler, not try and cram two adult guys who are both over six feet tall and have enough limbs between them that even their double bed seems like a tight fit sometimes. He says as much to Even, but Even just grins, and twenty minutes later Isak somehow finds himself stark naked and folded into the inflatable pool in the middle of their living room floor.

They really are too big for it. They sit across from each other, both with their knees drawn up to their chests, ankles tangled, most of their limbs knocking together because of the lack of space between them. The cold water barely comes up to Isak’s hip, so the pool isn't even doing its job very well.

“This isn't as romantic as I imagined,” Even admits, when he tries to lean forwards to kiss Isak and ends up sloshing water out the sides of the pool. Isak laughs at him.

“This isn't romantic at all. I just have a cold ass and the rest of me is still burning.”

It's lucky that Even looks so cute, sat there with his flushed pink chest and big rueful grin, or Isak might actually care about being uncomfortable. As it is, he just smiles back -- and then, all of a sudden, lunges forwards and tackles Even right out of the pool. Water sloshes everywhere and they wind up in a tangle on the floor, laughing and soggy and squirming all over the place until Isak finally manages to pin Even down.

“Kiss me,” he demands through a smile. Even does. Isak thinks maybe this wasn't such a terrible idea. And he thinks that maybe, the heatwave isn’t so bad if he has Even by his side. Actually, as he lays down and lets Even kiss him some more in the puddles of cold water, Isak thinks this is the most fucking blissful summer of his whole life so far.

(Of course, the next day, when the downstairs neighbour asks if Even and Isak know why a damp patch has suddenly appeared on her ceiling, Isak does decide to throw out the paddling pool. For the sake of their lease.)

#skam #evak #evak fic #skam fic #skamfwn #isak valtersen #even bech naesheim #this is 90% me projecting my own complete inability to cope with the current heatwave so lets pretend isak is as pathetic as me #maia writes fic #30 days of skam #even x isak #isak x even

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